


Friends With A Monster

by ShuTodoroki



Category: Cars (Pixar Movies)
Genre: Backstory, Business, Businessmen, Canon Compliant, Capitalism, London, M/M, Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28701774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShuTodoroki/pseuds/ShuTodoroki
Summary: Sterling jumps at the opportunity when Sir Miles Axlerod wants to partner with his mudflap company. However, as Miles's plans for Allinol begin to unravel, and Sterling starts to see Miles's true colors, he knows that he can't support the oil baron any longer.
Relationships: Sterling/Miles Axlerod
Kudos: 6





	Friends With A Monster

Sterling jumped at the opportunity when he got the call from Sir Miles Axlerod. Apparently, his mudflap company was big enough that the behemoth that was Axlerod Industries wanted to create a business partnership with him. Of course, the decision to accept would be great for his business, so he accepted.

Which was why he was now at the doorstep of Axlerod Industries after being let through security, after traveling to London from New York. A forklift employee let him in, and he was told to take an elevator to Axlerod’s office on the top floor of the 30 storey building.

Usually, he was the one who was the boss in his company, but he would show deference when he met Miles in person, since he was not as established as the oil baron was, even though he wasn’t called the “Mudflap King of the Eastern Seaboard” for nothing.

The doors to Miles’s office opened automatically, and he soon saw the Range Rover come out from behind his desk, with a slight smile on his hood. “Sterling! What a pleasure to have the Mudflap King of the Eastern Seaboard at Axlerod Industries.” He greeted, holding out a tire for a tire shake.

Sterling smiled humbly, shaking the other’s tire politely. “I take the title humbly, Sir Axlerod.”

Miles waved a tire dismissively. “Please, no ‘sir.’ Just Miles. We’re about to be business partners anyway, right?” 

Sterling nodded in agreement. “Right. But…” He had a question which he hoped that Miles wouldn’t mind answering. “Why my company specifically? Not that I am ungrateful, but I don’t see the connection between oil and mudflaps.”

Miles chuckled lightly and gave a wink. "The type to ask questions. I like it. You see, I was looking to expand to other industries outside just oil, and I saw that your company looked quite promising, since it's growing at such a fast rate. Why not share profits? As far as I know, you've only been selling your mudflaps strictly in America, right?" 

"Right, so you're suggesting that we partner, and you can sell them in the UK?" Sterling inquired, seemingly intrigued by the proposal the Range Rover was making.

"You read my mind. It would benefit you and me by expanding our businesses and profits." Miles looked at Sterling with a slight smirk. "Anything for money, right?"

"Well, increased profits certainly sounds good to me." Sterling replied. "What do I need to do? Sign some paperwork?" 

"Only one agreement that I've already typed out." Miles gestured at a piece of paper that was already laid out on his desk, with a space for his tire tread. 

Sterling looked over the document, which basically summed up the deal. It was a joint venture between him and Miles of expanding his mudflap sales to the UK; it was an even 50% split of profits between the two parties. Satisfied, he signed with a small "S," and looked back up at Miles when he was done. 

"With this partnership, we'll be rich beyond belief." Miles said, laughing in glee. 

Sterling laughed along as well, having no regrets about what he just did. Miles promised profits, and he could trust such an established billionaire. Right?

* * *

“Miles, have you lost your mind!?!”

That was how his conversation with Sir Miles Axlerod started off that morning over the phone, several months later. 

The partnership had been going well; Miles sold his mudflaps at Axlerod Oil gas stations around the UK, and profits increased for the both of them. The business decision was a success, which made the both of them happy.

That is, until Miles called him, stating that he was going to become the first car to circumnavigate the globe without GPS. The idea was ridiculous, and would probably result in certain death, if one thought about it logically. Something that he was quite sure the oil baron wasn’t doing at the moment.

“Sterling, come on! It’ll show how far my fuel can go on a single tank, and increase publicity for both of our companies. I’ll even wear your mudflaps. No mud on me even after circumnavigating the entire globe.”

Sterling gave a sigh over the phone. “I say this not only as your business partner, but as your friend when I say that I’m scared you will die.” 

“If I die, you’d have the chance to get all of my assets.” Miles joked, laughing. He obviously didn’t take what Sterling said seriously.

Sterling rolled his eyes. He was growing concerned by Miles’s behavior as of late. “I wouldn’t wish death on anyone just for money.” 

“Right, right. I appreciate your concern, but I will be fine. I have towns to stop at along the way. I’ll be starting from Port Sudan to cross Africa.”

“You’re crossing the Abyssianian desert. There are no towns along that route.”

“Small ones, Sterling, small ones. Trust me, I’ve planned everything out.” Miles tried to reassure.

Sterling was silent for a while as he tried to think about what to say next. “…You won’t be dissuaded from this, right?”

“Nope! Besides, there are untapped oil reserves out there, I know it. I can find them.”

Oh, so this was what was motivating the oil baron to do such a thing. “You’re willing to risk running out of gas or something, to find gas?”

“Oh please, I’ll be carrying multiple containers of gas in case anything happens.” Miles said dismissively. 

“You’re very sure of yourself in this endeavor, aren’t you?” Sterling remarked, still not totally comfortable with the idea. 

“Yes! As I said, it’ll also draw attention to your mudflaps. No mud after crossing all of Africa.”

Sterling sighed again. “Miles, if you’re sure that you want to do this, I won’t stop you. Just…be safe.”

“Of course! I’ll be sure to talk to you along the way.” With that, Miles hung up.

Sterling put the phone back as he sat in his Manhattan office, unsure of the future. What if something happened? Miles was joking, but would he really inherit Axlerod Industries? No, Miles probably had someone else in line just in case such a thing happened, but Miles seemed very sure of himself.

 _I won't accomplish much by worrying._ He told himself, deciding to wait and see what would happen. Miles said that he would keep him informed throughout his endeavor, so that reassured him somewhat. The silver car made himself busy with paperwork pertaining to his mudflap sales, to take his mind off of the matter.

* * *

Sterling wished that it wasn't true when he read in The New Torque Times that Sir Miles Axlerod had gone missing. He hadn't heard from the Range Rover in a week, but he assumed that maybe he had no cell phone service in the remote part of Africa that he was in. Besides, no one else seemed concerned, so why should he?

But then the news outlets picked up on the fact that Miles hadn't been seen ever since he left Port Sudan, and the towns that he stopped in were probably so small that news media couldn't find them. Or, Miles was lying to him about towns being along his route through the Abyssianian desert. 

Stock prices for Axlerod Industries plummeted as consumers lost confidence with the CEO of the massive oil company MIA. He had been asked questions on the subject since before Miles left he had been seen to be wearing mudflaps of his brand. Deciding to do some damage control because his company was suffering a bit as well as a result of being partnered with Axlerod Industries, he tried to reassure the public. 

"Miles and I are close business partners. He is quite an ambitious car, but he assured me before he left that he took all of the necessary precautions. I was in contact with him a week ago, and he seemed in good spirits. It could just be that as he has crossed into the thick forests of Equatorial Africa, that he has lost cell phone reception. Since search crews have been sent out, I'm sure that they will find him." 

Of course, that was not how he really felt about the situation, but he wasn't going to say what he really thought to the general public. Which was why it was a shock when he saw in the newspaper headlines two weeks later that 36 days after Miles Axlerod had left Port Sudan, he was found in the depths of the African rainforest, having run on a fuel he had distilled himself from the "natural elements."

In the days that followed after being rescued, he decided to call the new fuel Allinol, and Sterling managed to get a hold of the oil baron when he had returned to London.

"Dear Chrysler, Miles, you almost died! I told you it was a bad idea." Sterling rebuked, sounding exasperated over the phone. 

"Well, I did find a new fuel! That's good, right? Better yet, it burns cleanly, and is better for the environment than petroleum." Miles replied, weirdly seeming quite calm for having almost died in the African wilderness. 

"Yes, yes, that's good and all, but you still own the largest oil company in the world. This Allinol…is it going to be a subdivision of Axlerod Industries, or…?" 

"Ha! Actually, I'm going to sell off all of my oil rigs and devote my life to improving the environment. Alternative energy is the new thing, you know? I'll even convert myself to electric." 

Sterling was silent as he tried to figure out whether the oil baron was serious or not. He decided to go with that it was a joke, since the idea seemed so ludicrous to the silver car. Sell your entire oil fortune? He couldn’t imagine that being a good idea. “Ha! Good one, Miles.”

“Sterling, I’m serious.” Miles confirmed, his lighthearted tone becoming more serious to prove that he, indeed, was going to sell off his oil fortune to focus his efforts on Allinol. 

Well, that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. “…You are?” 

“Yes, I am. What? You sound concerned about the idea.” Miles pointed out. 

“Well, of course I am! You need some sort of assurance that Allinol will be a success. Cars won’t switch over from gasoline just like that. You have to prove that it’s a viable alternative that’s better for the environment like you claim. It’d be preferable to consumers, in my opinion, for it to run as close to the performance of gasoline as it can.”

Miles just gave a light chuckle in response to Sterling’s concern. “Ah, Sterling, I appreciate that you are so like minded. I already have everything planned out.”

“Wait, you _what?_ ”

“You said that it should be close to the performance of gasoline, right? Well, I’m going to prove that in a racing competition. It’s going to be called the World Grand Prix, run purely on Allinol. It’s in the final stages of planning, but I’ll announce it to the public soon. My reasoning is that if Allinol can power the racing champions of the world, it can power the ordinary car.”

“When were you planning on holding this World Grand Prix?” Sterling inquired.

“Several months from now. I already have a few racers in mind. Cool, right?” 

“I suppose I’m glad that you’ve thought of everything to make Allinol profitable. WIth such a high profile event, cars will be persuaded to use your new fuel.” Sterling thought aloud.

“Allinol will _definitely_ be profitable. And since it’s such a high profile event, and you’re such a high profile business partner, how about an invitation to the welcome party for the World Grand Prix in Tokyo?”

“Sounds tempting, but you’d have to give me a concrete date. I’m a busy car; I have meetings with my employees and what not, which is why I prefer to stay here to run everything smoothly.” 

“Of course. As a fellow business car, I understand. I’ll give you one when I have one.”

* * *

Turns out, when Miles gave him a date, it was on a day that he had one of those mudflap company meetings, so he couldn’t go. The racing competition started off normal enough; the party was lively, and Sterling could see from the media coverage that all of the racers were having fun, looking lively and anticipating the race that would happen the next day.

That is, until three racers blew their engines during the Tokyo race. Immediately, there was speculation that Allinol had caused the racers’ engines to explode. Miles, however, refuted these accusations, and he shared similar sentiments when he talked to him that night.

“I’ll get an independent panel of scientists to verify the safety of Allinol as a fuel. But you believe me, Sterling. Right? I survived off of it when I ran out of conventional fuel in the wild. And that was a crude version of it! Allinol is refined, and there’s no proof that it caused those racers to flame out.”

Miles’s reasoning made sense to him at the time, so he agreed with him, and the Porto Corsa race of the World Grand Prix went on as scheduled after an independent panel of scientists did, indeed, determine that Allinol was completely safe.

However, his views immediately changed after another three racers had their engines explode during the race, and when the third racer flamed out on the Casino Bridge, causing a massive pile up, he knew that Allinol was the culprit. But he didn’t understand; how could Miles have had no issues with the fuel when he used it in the wild?

 _Unless he lied about it…_ He thought. He was starting to question whether he should keep his ties with Miles. It wasn’t widely publicized that he was partnered with the oil baron, save for Miles wearing his mudflaps when he set out from Port Sudan and his mudflaps being sold at Miles’s gas stations. He didn’t want to be associated with someone who put lives in danger.

He was going to call Miles to get answers, but Miles got to him first, calling his Manhattan office, sounding quite distraught. “Your reservations about Allinol were right. I’ve allowed the last race in London to not be run on Allinol.”

“I don’t understand how you had no issues with it, yet the racers are.” Sterling remarked.

“Scientists have hypothesized that it has something to do with the number of engine revolutions per minute. I wasn’t exactly racing in the African rainforest, so maybe the stress put on the engine when racing causes it to combust.”

“And you didn’t think of this before you decided to try it out on world famous racers?” Sterling asked, indignant. 

“It was an honest mistake! The racers who were injured are recovering in the hospital, though. They’ll be fine. Isn’t that what matters?”

“Yes, but it was preventable! And now since you’ve sold your oil fortune, what are you going to do?”

“I’m very capable of getting it back if need be. Besides, one racer still believes in my Allinol. There is hope for alternative energy.”

“What you should be doing is cutting your losses, and persuading Lightning McQueen to not use it, if you don’t want his engine exploding during your race.” Sterling advised.

“I’ll leave the choice up to him. He has the right to choose whether to use Allinol or not.”

“You’re letting him risk his life to prove a point.”

“Well, that would be his fault, wouldn’t it? Besides, there is no conclusive explanation for Allinol causing engines to explode! What I told you was a theory.”

“Yes, but six engines have blown during races done on your Allinol!”

Miles sighed, obviously done with the conversation, even though he was the one who called Sterling. “If you don’t agree with the way I do things, you are very welcome to end the partnership. I’ve already chosen to not run the last race on Allinol because I have seen the trend relating to blown engines and Allinol, but I believe that the problem is something that can be fixed."

Sterling could not in good conscience continue to do business with someone who had endangered multiple lives, and was knowingly endangering another one. “I’m sorry, Miles, but if you’re not going to do what is right and stop Lightning from making this mistake, then I’d say our business relationship is over.” 

With that, he hung up. That was one of the few decisions that he didn’t make strictly off of what was best for his business, and he knew that he wouldn’t regret it.

* * *

Sterling couldn’t have anticipated what had transpired in London at the final race of the World Grand Prix. He expected Lightning McQueen to flame out like the other racers because he decided to use Allinol, but instead a tow truck showed up on the track, ensuing a high speed chase between Lightning McQueen and the tow truck, and he couldn’t even explain the rest because it happened so fast.

All he knew was that it ended with Miles being arrested. He apparently faked converting to electric, and purposely made Allinol look bad to make everyone switch back to using oil, and cause the death of alternative energy. He initially wondered how someone could do such a thing, until he remembered what Miles had said to him.

“Anything for money, right?”

The oil baron cared about nothing else but money, and would do anything, including killing innocent cars, for it. And he was partnered with such a monster. No, not even partnered with. He was friends with a monster.

Of course, due to his past links with Miles, he was investigated for any connections to the Allinol scheme, and he was cleared when it was found that he had no knowledge of the plan. 

A picture of Miles sat on his desk, which he had received when he initially partnered with the Range Rover in London. Miles thought that it would be a great idea to have a picture of each other in their respective offices as a sign of their partnership. The picture of himself was probably no more, as Miles was imprisoned, but he still had the picture of Miles. 

He considered throwing it away, wanting to leave the fact that he was friends with Miles behind, but he decided to keep it. Money corrupts, and he didn’t want that to happen to him. He would keep it as a lasting reminder to stay an honest and moral business car.

He would never become the monster that Miles Axlerod was.


End file.
